


Have we killed the sympathy we lack?

by junebugtwin



Category: RWBY
Genre: Abusive Parents, Abusive Relationships, Adam Taurus Being an Asshole, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Blake failing, Blake has PTSD, Blake trying not to care, Blake trying to be scary and mean, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, Internalized racism, Kidnapping, Racism, Terrorism, Violence, Weiss gets kidnapped by the White Fang, Weiss has PTSD, Weiss has anxiety, can we get an f in the chat for Weiss Schnee, which is less than optimal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:34:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junebugtwin/pseuds/junebugtwin
Summary: She holds her head with no gentleness, gripping her own pale hair with harsh trembling fingers. She’s knelt, crouched on a pristine floor she’s only now discovering smells faintly of lavender.  It’s a strange thought to be having, she thinks, her heart beating madly, considering she’s about to die.She’s not an idiot; she’s not going to trick herself into hoping she can plot some sort of miraculous escape- run away to some happy ending maybe. She’s never had illusions like that, for better or for worse- she knows her place. Still and quiet and agreeable. She swallows, the words as bitter as the iron she gulps down
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Have we killed the sympathy we lack?

She holds her head with no gentleness, gripping her own pale hair with harsh trembling fingers. She’s knelt; crouched on a pristine floor she’s only now discovering smells faintly of lavender. It’s a strange thought to be having, she thinks, her heart beating madly, considering she’s about to die.

She’s not an idiot; she’s not going to trick herself into hoping she can plot some sort of miraculous escape- run away to some happy ending maybe. She’s never had illusions like that, for better or for worse- she knows her place. Still and quiet and agreeable. She swallows, the words as bitter as the iron she gulps down.

These Faunus are here to kill them all- her mother and her brother and sister, Jacques is conveniently out of town on a trip. She’s not ashamed to admit she’s unmoved by the concept of violent actions against him, despite the fact that he’s not here- but the rest of them- they are what drive her pulse to flutter like a bird being crushed underfoot. Her brother is barely thirteen, whatever punishment the rest of them may have ‘deserved’ at the claws of these Faunus he was innocent- if not by his age solely.

Gods, all Weiss can do is curl here and tremble, the noise of gun fire and shouts shaking the mansion around them, like a castle of blocks being thrown apart by a toddler.

That’s what these Faunus are, she lies, children lashing out at the most obvious targets- attacking the family of the SDC’s ceo instead of the man himself- hoping to strike some sort of message, to make her father truly suffer. Despite the situation Weiss nearly scoffs- the only thing her father suffers is pride.

She freezes further as the abrasive noise of combat in the background finally fades- ominously so. Weiss presses herself further into the cabinet blocking her body- squished in between the dark oak and the pale blue wallpaper behind her and to her right. The empty space above her head and in front of her face stings painfully, like the open air itself burns her skin- and it’s all she can do to not constantly crane her neck to make sure no one’s looming over her from above.

She’s going to die here. Weiss grips the hair on her head even tighter, pulling slightly, her body acting out with distress even as she feels numb. It’s not like she was living for much anyway. She doesn’t understand why some part of her feels so frightened when logically she understands that her life would most likely just be a continuation of the cold blur it already was- this shouldn’t bother her.

It’s the violence, she thinks resolutely, she doesn’t fancy being shot- or whatever horrible torture these monsters have planned for her. She’s seen enough executions on t.v to know that the White Fang doesn’t tend to practice mercy, or be capable of empathy. That’s what keeps her stock still, curled protectively in one spot. A selfish urge to avoid undue pain and suffering- it’s almost a relief, to have such a human feeling.

She snaps out of her thoughts abruptly as a footstep echoes in the silence of a room- no not a room- _her_ room. Weiss stops breathing, her muscles, once jittering, now tense perfectly still.

And yet, the footsteps move forward, heavy and large and getting louder _and louder_ -

Weiss shrieks violently, like glass shattering, as she is harshly yanked up, her scalp screaming in intense pain as her attacker grips her ponytail.

She blinks rapidly, tears gathering in her eyes at the horrid sharp pangs of pain that continually run down through her head, watching as the white and blue room in front of her blurs.

She moves her arms, fingers scrambling to get the offending hands to release her from their awful grip. Her nails scrape what she had assumed would be skin, only to immediately let go at the feeling of rough bumps and pebbles- scales she realises with a sick jolt. There was no doubt about who her assailant was, but this solidified it in a way that made her stomach drop- She was currently being held like a caught pig, ready for slaughter, by a White Fang member.

She finally manages to clear the wet from her eyes just as she’s dropped to the floor- the throbbing pain from her head receding slightly, only to be replaced with a jarring impact from her knee’s crashing against the hard marble.

She pants, attempting to get to her feet even as she knows better, panic urging her to run run run

As a more reasonable part of her suspected, her footing is immediately kicked out from under her, knocking her ruthlessly back down onto her knees. She hisses in pain, momentarily stunned by it.

She’s no stranger to rough handling, but this is more than she usually endures, even on a bad day.

She stays put this time, finally opening her eyes once more, suitably cowed now that her subconscious has stopped planning any daring escape attempts. The room looks mostly untouched, save a few bullet holes ripping through its walls, it seems her hiding spot was mostly out of the way of the fighting.

Her captor is still above her, and she risks glancing upwards to get a peek at their identity. Immediately she’s surprised to observe that they aren’t wearing the typical White Fang mask, instead baring a deep cut in their chin that is bleeding somewhat heavily- she assumes the result of an attack that shattered the mask.

He has a…strangely young face, filled with scars but free of wrinkles. Dark brown eyes, hazel skin and reddish colored hair that’s peppered with bits of rubble and drywall. Most notably he has thick green scales crawling up his cheeks before dispersing, their plating splotching and molted. Soon afterward she notices his other animalistic traits- his eerie thin pupils, his sharp teeth that occasionally flash- scaled hands equipped with feral claws, and a large tail, waving from side to side slightly.

Weiss shudders as he glares down at her, mouth practically drawn into a snarl.

“Well, well, look what I found!” He grins, not looking particularly cheerful.

“Thought you could hide did you?” He sneers, leaning down slightly, causing her to still and tense violently, as she automatically suppress a flinch. She didn’t think she could hide- she never does.

She doesn’t say anything, trying to void her face of any emotion at all. She doesn’t want to anger this man or please him either- she wants him to get this over with. She feels distantly annoyed with his unprofessional-ism.

He lashes out quickly, gripping her jaw roughly between his bestial fingers, the point of each claw tip barely grazing her skin. She’s jerked forward by the motion, and her knee’s burn at the movement.

“What? Nothing to say _princess_? Not gonna’ beg for your stupid life, or maybe call me a animal?” He growls, apparently displeased by her silence. She doesn’t know what he wants from her- either suggested action would be pointless, with the second being particularly idiotic. She doesn’t quite understand the tone of his voice either, as if he’d be somehow more satisfied if she insulted him. Proving him right maybe? About what? He’s clearly already made up his mind on what to feel about her- unadulterated hatred. Nothing she’d do could possible change that- not that she’d spend her last moments soothing some mindless brutes ego.

She remains silent, aware she is tempting fate.

He doesn’t seem to like this any more than before, letting out a low rumble of anger- his hand pulling back and-

Weiss turns her head and relaxes her jaw, expecting the blow, only to receive empty air as a commanding voice pierces the air.

“ _Salivus_!” The word, or name, or whatever it was is enough to instantly cow the man- and she is swiftly dropped back onto her aching knee’s for the thousandth time, the area where his cold scales had resided burning and tingling with awareness.

Weiss winces, taking in a small bracing breath. This is already a nightmare enough without adding memories of father into the mix. She looks up hesitantly, partially nervous to behold whatever creature could so easily command such a criminal with a single word.

She doesn’t expect to see a young woman in front of her- maybe even around Weiss’s age, from her height and build. She’s wearing a mask- but not the standard kind- the crimson markings are much more intricate than the average grunts, and the material of the mask looks visibly sturdier. She’s dresses in mostly back, with a few pieces of white clothing showing through, and has some sort of vaguely brownish red tattoo of the White Fang symbol on her shoulder.

Weiss can’t immediately tell what kind of animal she is- she has small ears and a long swaying black tail. Panther maybe, or domestic cat?

Weiss can’t tell where she’s looking from the darkness of her eye holes, and it sets her immediately on edge- well more so than she already was.

“I have no time for your insubordination. Pick her up gently as you move her, and don’t say a fucking word, or go find me someone who can.” She snaps, voice low and smooth, but with an edge that becomes more apparent as she speaks. She sounds like she’s twenty, twenty two from her voice alone, a few years older than her- though the mask muffles it somewhat.

Weiss has no fond feelings toward her in particular, but she does admit a slight pang of relief at having someone the least bit logical present. Or as logical as a terrorist can be she supposes.

The man moves behind her, and Weiss only has time to grimace before he’s picking her up again, this time thankfully not by her hair or chin. It’s not exactly a comfortable hold, being thrown over his muscled shoulder like a sack of common goods, but she supposes there was a very low chance of him carrying her bridal style, or by piggyback.

He grunts a bit as she shifts her weight, but doesn’t try to say anything more to her, or particularly harass her, apparently completely subdued by what must have been a higher ranked member. The one who is prowling even behind them, tensely looking from door to door as they move down the hallway, her weapon held at the ready. Weiss wonders if she really expects an attack from the maids and staff members that are cowering safely- most of whom are Faunus anyway.

Weiss has a fairly good standing with most of the household help, but she is under no illusions on the nature of their relationship. They would no more risk their skin for her then she would for them.

They come to a stop abruptly, and even facing the wrong way and tilted towards the floor Weiss can tell where they are just by the distant echo of their boot steps. The main foyer is the biggest room in the house, all crystal and quartz, sleek edges and pure white walls. She avoids it whenever possible- she feels too open in it- too hunted.

Weiss blinks as she’s brought down much more carefully then she expected, her bare feet touching the ground in a standing position properly for the first time in a few hours. The floor is of course, very cold, but the stability and the increased visibility of the stance gives her some comfort. The man gives her one last fierce glare before stepping back and it is at this point when she realizes she’s standing in the center of a ring of White Fang members. Her feet are now not even the coldest part of her body, and she struggles to control her fight or flight reflex.

Where’s the rest of her family?

The group is silent for a few moments, with the only movement being the occasional flick of a tail or twitch of an ear. She idly wonders if that’s automatic or if they control it- she’s never thought about it before.

Finally one of the members breaks the silence, a boy with what looks like a rat tail and one fluffy ear. The other is conspicuously missing.

“Well. Uh, she’s certainly screaming less than I would have thought.” He murmurs sounding bizarrely unsure and young, almost nervous.

“Hasn’t said a syllable since I found her- spose’ she’s mute or something?” The big lizard man scowls, personally offended by her silence. Weiss doesn’t know where to look- she doesn’t exactly want to snap her head from faunus to faunus as they speak like a dog, but she doesn’t want to stare ahead helplessly either. She settles for observing the room as a whole, as if she’s seeing it for the first time and hasn’t lived here her whole life.

“You’re an idiot. She’s literally a famous singer.” Snaps a rough sounding female voice, the feathered faunus.

“Yeah but everybody knows those things are faked I mean-“ Lizard man is interrupted suddenly by the intimidating woman from before, either fed up with the conversation or just now entering the room- Weiss can’t tell, she hadn’t been turned the right way to keep an eye on her.

“All of you shut up. Have the charges been set and the other targets taken care of?” She asks, not sounding immensely angry, but also not sounding particularly cheerful. Weiss stubbornly doesn’t look her way, even as she wants to whip her head to the side at the mention of ‘the other targets’. What does _taken care of_ mean in this conversation- killed? She feels so separated from the concept. As if she’s encased in some sort of see-through plastic, walling her off from reality.

**Author's Note:**

> As you can see the chapter isn't currently finished, but I felt like posting it anyway, so, enjoy I guess?
> 
> edit- Dappercat420- For some reason I can't respond to your comment, but for anyone else who's curious, in this AU faunus have more than one animalistic trait, and a few other odd biological quirks. Doesn't make them any less rational thinking people, but I'm sure looking 'less human' probably only makes things worse.


End file.
